I sit on the beach, enveloped in a giant towel, a cool warm breeze wafting over me. Glistening waves come in and go out, my mind follows. I hear teachers: Be an innkeeper – greet thoughts, let them in, let them go. I tell myself: Do not get stuck. Do not problem solve. I am determined: Sit, breathe, focus on the breath. I will do this. I try and try to sit still and focus, to be still, to meditate for even five minutes. Continue reading
The water is knee deep and cool, with tiny, not-even waves lapping at the shore. Continue reading
I put my shoes on, and walk — from the doorway to the desk. It’s five feet, if that, and really does not require shoes. But I’ve just come downstairs, wearing a black turtleneck & jeans, makeup and wet hair, wet with the hope that maybe it will be less wild and look less grey in these days of no haircuts. Sliding into shoes next is just what happens next. Continue reading
I broke a coffee mug the other morning. Continue reading
The cashews were really loud. I didn’t care in the slightest. Continue reading
When you died
you took part of my memory with you. Continue reading
My soul yearns for water. Continue reading
We were both lifeguards.
Beyond that, our lives were different. Continue reading
I failed it.